


I’ll Dream of You

by thorbiased



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, End Game Speculation, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I’m so sorry, More angst, Pain, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), So much angst, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, We’ll say, no happy ending, sorta fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorbiased/pseuds/thorbiased
Summary: And, of course, he still sees Peter. And Pepper and Rhodey, wondering if they’re still alive. He hopes they are, but he also hopes they aren’t worried about him. (He knows that, if they are, they’re worrying themselves sick.)Entirely inspired by Tony’s absolutely devastating, “I’ll dream of you.” line. End Game? More like End Me. I apologize for this.





	I’ll Dream of You

**Author's Note:**

> So who else is dead after that trailer? Ha. Anyway, have some very short angst that was just a way to work through feelings I had about the trailer. I just wanna give Tony some Food.

Tony finds it strange, sleeping in a dead man’s bed, but if he doesn’t get some shut eye, he’s pretty sure Nebula is going to knock him unconscious just to get him to stop pacing. So he limps into the small cabin, clutching at his side. It’s really small, belonging to someone Nebula called Drax. (He’s pretty sure that one was Mr. Clean.) 

He lies down in the bed and pulls the covers over his nose. Despite his exhaustion, he knows he’s not going to get to sleep easily. It’s been a few weeks since they left Titan. Nebula won’t tell him, but Tony’s not an idiot. They’re running out of oxygen fairly quickly. Food and water’s getting low, too. It shouldn’t be long until they’re done for. 

And, of course, he still sees Peter. And Pepper and Rhodey, wondering if they’re still alive. He hopes they are, but he also hopes they aren’t worried about him. (He knows that, if they are, they’re worrying themselves sick.) 

Tony shakes his head, trying to clear it enough to focus and sleep. He lies on his side and curls in on himself, ignoring the way Nebula’s crude stitches pinch and pull at his sensitive skin. He lets out a shuddering breath as his eyes slip shut. Sleep closes in on him, wrapping him in the dark embrace of nightmares. To his subconscious surprise, his mind sends good dreams his way...guess it supposed he needed a break… 

Pepper’s hair is down in curls. God, he loves it like that. Her dress is a creamy white and A-line, lacy and pearled at the top. He loves it. He loves her. Every sad or anxious thought is banished from his mind as he takes her in. She walks down the aisle, positively beaming. The flowers in her hands are a baby pink. The ring on her finger glistlens in the sun. Tony’s glad they chose to get married outside. It’s amazing. She’s amazing. 

The scene shifts. He’s in a suit, still. But the sun is gone, replaced by the stark white LED of a gymnasium. Up on stage, there’s Peter grinning from ear to ear. He squeezes Pepper’s hand and looks over at her, his eyes shining. She just shakes her head. They watch Peter walk across the stage, shoot a thumbs up to May. His eyes lift up to scan the crowd, and they lock on Tony. His grin grows even wider as he waves. 

Again, he’s jolted into a new scene. The lights are dim now. He sits by the tall window of a hospital, but his heart is light. In his arms rests a baby boy, his eyes shut in slumber, soft snores escaping his tiny lips. Morgan Edwin Stark. His son. His and Pepper’s son. And he’s perfect. His mama’s freckles, his daddy’s hair, ten fingers, and ten toes. Morgan’s eyes pop open, wide and blue. As a gummy smile spreads across his face, Tony wakes. 

He hears the distant beeping that signals low oxygen. 

But, he’s content for the first time in weeks. The beginnings of a smile pull at the edges of his lips. It feels unnatural after so long, but it’s not exactly wrong. He lies there in a borrowed bed, warm under borrowed covers, and smiles for a future he’ll never have.


End file.
